Another Typical Night
by katmeows4no1
Summary: It's another typical night for Katie, until she is reunited with one Dallas Winston. Why is this New York broad so far from home, and looking for Dally? yeah i know the summary sounds generic, but just give my fic a chance! NO lemons, Dally/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone. If you've read the first version i posted weeks ago, this is the redone version, and continued a bit. I got rid of Dally's POV because i suck at it. I made him seem like a gentleman from the Victorian Era instead of an ice-cold Greaser. If you are also reading my other fics, i'm stuck on them. I need help with A Different Atmosphere, i realy need some ideas on how to prank Jacob. But Homecomeing i'm just having a little trouble making things flow, but i'll have it up soon hopefully.**

Another typical night, me just wandering the streets of a new town, getting my surroundings. Typical guys watching me with hungry eyes, occasionally trying to get my attention. Typical me, wearing plain, but cute jeans with a t-shirt and jacket. Another ordinary, predictable night. Any minute now, a guy would come up to me and start flirting, and I would just flip him off and keep walking. He would catch up with me, and try again. I would give him my death eyes, he would back away, and I would walk on.

And I was right, of course. I heard footsteps behind me, a guy's footsteps. You can always tell, they sound heavy and arrogant. But this guy's footsteps were different, different enough that I turned around.

I felt my eyes widen slightly, quickly I schooled my face into the expressionless, almost bored mask I wore the majority of every day. I saw surprise flick across his beautiful features. He was almost 6 foot; making me at 5 foot even, have to look up. The thing that was different about him was that he was dangerous, you could tell that at a glance. And I mean truly dangerous, he wasn't pretending. His eyes, oh his eyes. Blue and gray, almost like the sky turned into steel. Hard eyes, dangerous, demanding, completely in control.

He walked up to me in his jeans, sleeveless black shirt, and over the shoulder slung black leather jacket. He stopped just inches away from me, forcing me to look up. I glared at him, putting all I had into my death glare. I hated it when people made my shortness obvious. He flinched. He actually flinched. Dang, I must have really put power into that death glare, 'cause this guy doesn't seem the type easily scared. No, scratch that, this guy is the guy who is never scared, not for himself at least.

"Can I help you?" I asked in a monotone, my eyes calming, letting my lids drop halfway, making me look bored.

"Who are you?" he asks. No demands.

"The new kid in the neighborhood."

"You know what I mean, don't give me that crap. I know you're trouble, it's all in your stance."

Rhymes with hit. He can read me.

"Then you must already know everything."

"I do. That's why I'm doing this."

He backed me against the alley wall, pinning my hands above my head with one hand before I could do anything. With his other hand he cupped my chin. He didn't worry about my legs; he already had them twisted with his own. With his hand, he tilted my face upwards. I was surprised by the expression on his face. He looked… guilty. Then I heard a snigger in front of me and to my left. Oh, he was being put up to it. I didn't bother resisting now, I knew he felt guilty about this, he wouldn't try anything, just kiss me and leave me. Whatever. His lips finally covered mine. I was surprised; they were soft and warm, and… gentle. He gave me a long sweet kiss; almost like the kind a lover gave you, as if you had all the time in the world. It was absolute bliss. And then suddenly, it stopped.

I opened my eyes; I had closed them when he started kissing me. He looked even guiltier now. He unpinned me from the wall; I was actually depressed that he was done.

He looked me straight in the eyes then. "Sorry Katie," he whispered.

My eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. There was no way it was… Dally. My eyes flickered to the leather jacket. Yes, it was he. I would know that jacket anywhere.

"Dally…" his name slipped through my lips quietly.

"Where are you staying?" he asked, his eyes gentle, as they always have been for me.

"I got a room at Buck's for now."

"Save some money and share a room with me." His eyes gave no hint of lust. I knew Dally; he would never do anything I didn't like. It was sort of sad that I had the toughest Greaser wrapped around my finger. But then again, I was wrapped around his own.

I merely nodded in answer.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the Curtis gang." He nodded towards a group of Greasers across the street in a grassy lot.

"'Kay." I took his hand like I used to. It was nice to go back to something familiar, even just for a little while.

I noticed other people on the street besides his gang staring at us. I laughed inside. Of course they would be staring. The normally cold Dally was holding the hand of a girl like he actually cared about her. Dally had always softened around me, even when others were watching. He just couldn't help it, I was practically his kid sister. At least I can take care of myself now. No one will ever think I'm Dally's weakness, or he mine. Plus, my glare is better than his. It will be a hilarious moment when I get him to admit it, and I know I can get him to admit it. Oh crud, go away evil smirk! Not now! Yay, gone.

"Why are you smirking evilly?" Crap, he noticed. "Wait, do I really want to know?"

"It's nothing bad, I was just thinking that my glare is better than yours."

"Is not."

"Is so, you flinched at it."

"…."

He was saved because we had just reached the guys across the street.

"Hey everyone!" I said brightly. If Dally trusted these guys to introduce me, then I can be myself around them. "I'm Purple Ink, but just call me Ink." The only person I let call me Katie was Dally, and it was going to stay that way.

"Purple Ink? What kind of name is that?" the guy in the Mickey Mouse shirt asked me.

"Why wear a Mickey Mouse shirt when you're nineteen years old?" my usual sarcasm slipped out, mocking him.

He gaped at me. Sweet, I got his age right.

Dally interrupted him before he even opened his mouth. "She's good at guessing ages. Purple is her middle name, she uses it as a first name though." He turned to scowl mockingly at me, "For some reason, she doesn't like her first name, even when it's shortened."

"You would too Dally, plus Purple is much more interesting than my first name." I smiled at him and the others. There was no way I was letting them use Katie, let alone Katherine. Ick major.

"She also has another reason for being called 'Purple Ink,'" Dally said, "Go on, show 'em."

I sighed and pulled up my jacket sleeves. Purple flames covered my arms. "Whoa," I heard Mickey Boy say. "They're not tattoos, its just purple pen," I told them. Pulling down my sleeves, I thought about the triangles covering my ankles, nah I didn't want to show them those. "This is the result of me getting bored."

A serious looking guy in the back looked between me and Dally, glancing at one, then the other, as if trying to figure out something. Finally he shook his head, uncrossed his arms and came up to me. At six-foot two, he looked to be twenty-one, and by his muscles, I'm guessing he has a hard labor job. I hope it pays decent. He had hard blue-green eyes, but a different hard from Dally and mine. His hair was dark brown and curly, but sort of jutted out in front.

He put a hand out to me. "I'm Darry Curtis, nice to meet you Ink." I shook his hand firmly once, and let go.

I gave him my playful nice smile on, "Nice to meet you too. Mind introducing the rest of the guys?"

"Of course." He turned partially so he could point out the guys as he said names.

"The wise-ass in the Mickey shirt is Two-Bit, and with that nickname, he shouldn't be bothering you." I was giggling inside when both Darry and Dally glared at Two-Bit. Who merely put his hands up in surrender and smiled goofily. Mick… Two-Bit was about six foot with a stocky build. The rusty red of his hair made me think that he had Irish or Scottish blood. His gray eyes danced with merriment.

"The boy with the movie star looks is my brother Sodapop, and yes that is his real name."

"Sweet," was my only comment. Sodapop really did have movie-star looks. Although not as tall as Darry, he was a bit slimmer though still pretty fit. His face was the kind that would be on the front of a poster advertising a romance movie; sensitive, thoughtful, and reckless, all at the same time. I knew tons of girls who'd stop in the middle of whatever they were doing to just stare at this guy. Heck, I'd stare at him if I weren't against being rude when I didn't need to be.

"The kid here," he pointed to the youngest, who looked to be fifteen, and resembled Darry and Sodapop slightly, "is my other brother Ponyboy, and again, real name. Our parents were imaginative." Ponyboy grimaced slightly at being called "the kid." Ponyboy had the slight build of a boy just starting to mature, that slightly gangly look. He pulled it off somehow though. His hair was semi-long for a guy, but sort of short for a Greaser. His green-gray eyes gazed at me behind a slightly guarded stance, as if he was trying to read me. I nodded to him, giving him an amused look.

"The guy standing behind Soda is Steve." The boy looked grumpy. What crawled up his butt and died? Steve looked eighteen with his long, lean body. A body, that while not as handsome as Sodapop, was worth sighing over at least.

"And last but definitely not least, is Johnny." Johnny had burn scars on most of his visible tanned skin. Black eyes looked at me with acceptance. I saw him glance at Dally. Ah, Dally had taken this kid under his wing; Johnny would trust Dally's word about me. The boy looked like he had been abused most his life. He wasn't a coward obviously, you weren't in a gang if you were a coward. But he didn't have the backbone he needed to survive in this world. Definitely a story to ask Dally about in private, I could tell by how the guys tensed, especially Dally, that they were ready to fend off any questions or comments about Johnny's scars.

"Hey Johnny, I like your jacket. It looks comfy." I grinned, hoping to put him and the others at ease. When they all relaxed and chuckled, I felt relief wash through me. I really didn't want to upset these guys.

Johnny smiled shyly at me. "It is. In fact, it's too comfy to loan, so stop eyeing it."

All the guys looked at me in bewilderment. I guess Johnny doesn't joke much. I decided to go along. "Fine," I pouted, crossing my arms. "I like mine better anyway, it has the coke-a-cola logo on it."

The guys laughed. All tension left and soon I was joking around with them all. Sodapop invited me to play football with them and I gladly accepted. I really needed to get some energy used up. Dally was on the other team, I knew I was gonna have fun tackling him.

When the sun started to set, the game ended. I said my goodbyes to the guys, and then Dally and I headed to Bucks to change our sleeping arrangements and get some sleep. I fell asleep in Dally's arms.

**The next part is pretty much finished, so if i get a lot of reveiws, i'll finish it and update this weekend. So, if you want to know what happens next, reveiw. Thanks**


	2. Chapter 2

**I apologize to anyone who was confused in the first chapter for any reason. Hopefully you will be less confused after reading this chapter. So please enjoy reading.**

My dreams that night were of Dally and I growing up. We each grew up raised by only our mothers in the rundown, dangerous part of New York. Dally was a year older than me. When I was born, our mothers decided to just share an apartment. That way it would be easier to raise Dally and I, plus it would be way cheaper. Our mothers soon became best friends, and loved Dally and I like we were actually siblings instead of two kids growing up in the same home. Dally's mom died in a car accident when he was ten, and I nine. He got arrested for the first time that year.

Our moms worked all day, so we had grown up on the streets, amusing ourselves and learning how to survive while our moms were busy at work. Dally grew hard on the streets, then harder after his mom's death. He protected me, he was the only thing that kept me from going as hard as him. Since our moms were away so much working, Dally practically raised me. After his mom's death, he dropped out of school and joined a gang. He was able to get extra cash for our small little family. But it wasn't enough that Mom could stop working such long hours.

I helped him out sometimes. When he was assigned pick pocketing jobs or small time stealing. He taught me how to pick pocket, I was fair decent, but no one was as good as Dally. When he did stealing, I was his lookout. I never joined his gang, heck, I never even met anyone from it until after he left. Dally just wanted to make sure he knew where I was, and that I might have some one besides Mom who would look after me if something happened to him.

Mom always got really upset when Dally got in trouble with the police, or just disappeared for a time. But she knew that there was nothing that she could do to stop him, and she wouldn't pull the "What would your mother think?" card. My mom loved Dally too much to hurt him with that. All Mom could do was treat any wounds he brought home and hold him when he was sad about his mom. I just tried to stay on Dally's good side and minded what he said. At least Mom knew she could trust Dally to take care of me.

Then my mom died when I was twelve and a half and Dally just over thirteen. Someone shot her on her way home from work. Apparently they were actually aiming for someone else. Dally grew even colder, if that was possible. He was still warm around me, but it was just a small thaw from how he acted on the streets. I got two jobs then, selling newspapers and working at a general store. I still helped Dally on the side, but not as often. Between school, my two jobs, and taking care of the apartment, I didn't have as much time to just hang out with Dally as I used to.

Without me to hold him down, Dally was on the streets more and more, getting into fights, smoking, drinking, and womanizing. It came to be, that almost every time there was a fight, Dally was the instigator. I lost count of how many times I had to pull out the first aid kit when he came home. Eventually I just left it in clear sight so that Dally could bind himself up if I wasn't home.

A few days before Dally's fifteenth birthday, he disappeared. The night before he had come up behind me while I was doing dishes and hugged me. He didn't say anything, just held me for a few minutes. That night, when he thought I was asleep, he crawled into my bed to sleep with me.

In the morning, he was gone. And I could tell he wouldn't be back. He had said his farewell the night before.

On the day of Dally's birthday, I heard a knock at the door. I was confused, because it was the special knock that Dally used to tell me it was he. I knew that it wasn't Dally, so who could it be?

When I opened the door, a gang stood on the doorstep. I knew it could only be Dally's gang. I nodded to them and gestured for them to come inside. When we were all sitting in the living room, the leader looked me straight in the eyes and told me that Dally had left, and had asked the gang to look after me. I nodded and told him that was what I assumed Dally would do. I stood up and asked if anyone was hungry.

After the meal, I asked Nathan, the leader, if I could talk to him privately. I told him that I would cook meals for the gang and they could crash at the apartment whenever they liked, I would earn my keep. Nathan saw the determination in my eyes and didn't argue. He said he'd continue my education of the streets.

For the next three years, I learned everything that Dally had learned. I grew as hard as him, only letting up my guard around the gang when we were at my place. Eventually, some news reached me, and I knew I had to find Dally.

--

I woke before Dally in the morning. I found myself in a different position than I had fallen asleep in. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks when I looked up to see Dally's face very near my own. I now faced Dally with our bodies pressed close together. My head rested on his shoulder, nestled into his neck. I really didn't want to acknowledge how close we were, so I slipped quickly out of bed without waking him.

I grabbed my black tank top, the jeans from yesterday, and clean underwear and bra from my bag. Taking my clothes with me I headed to the bathroom attached to Dally's room. I looked in the cracked mirror at my reflection for a moment. My long brown hair was matted and greasy from playing football, and I had dirt coating my skin, making my slightly tanned skin look darker. Hazel eyes gazed at a slightly large nose and dry cracked lips. At least the scar on my nose and forehead made me look tough. I sighed at my foolishness for wanting to know what Dally thought of how I looked.

After showering and changing I grabbed my pens and sat Indian style on the floor in front of the bed where Dally would see me when he woke up. I didn't bother doing anything with my hair, I always let it air dry. As I waited for him to wake, I pulled out a mirror with the intentions of doing a design on my collarbone. I didn't notice that Dally was awake until he spoke.

"It's always weird watching you doodle on yourself," he said quietly.

I finished drawing a curved line before I looked up at him. "Why is that?"

"Your thoughts are in the designs," he told me bluntly as he sat up stretching. "Right now, you're stressed and ready to mask your feelings by acting tuff." He gestured to all the designs revealed by my tank top, "so you show your designs to try to intimidate."

I didn't look at him. I put down the mirror I was using and fiddled with my pen as I stared at my lap. How did I tell him this? I guess bluntness is best.

"I found out who killed our mothers." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen and his hands form white knuckled fists. "It turns out neither the car or gun was an accident. Someone wanted them dead."

Dally moved off the bed to kneel in front of me, he gripped my shoulders in his hands. I looked up at him, my eyes like stone.

"Who?" his voice was like ice, demanding I answer him.

"Their old gangs." I spoke quietly. I couldn't manage to speak any louder, I was numb. Gangs were supposed to take care of their own, not hunt down members and kill them. "I didn't find out why they wanted our mothers, only that their old gangs killed them. I didn't even know our mothers had been in gangs!"

"Katie, what do I always say about tears?" It was only after he spoke that I realized I was crying.

"If tears fixed problems, there would be no problems," I answered him as I wiped my face with the strap of my tank top. He was right. The only way to avenge our mothers was to hunt down the bastards that ordered them killed, and… well, they'd wish they'd never been born. Let alone even thought about murdering our mothers.

I know Dally saw my resolve harden, because he gave me a brief squeeze and then stood up.

"I'm gonna take a shower, then we can go tell the gang we'll be gone awhile."

"'Kay."

I watched his hard, lean, scarred body walk to the bathroom. His white-blond hair was messy with bed head. Even with all the scars and his hard blue eyes, Dally reminded me of an elf somehow; a very deadly elf, but still an elf. It'd probably be a good idea not to mention the elf thing to him.

**If you still have questions, please ask me, i would be glad to answer any questions anyone might have. At least, any questions that will not reveal what will happen later in the story. **

**By the way, if you are going to give me constructive criticism, please no sarcasm. Treat others the way you want to be treated. **

**I'm not going to update day after day. I only posted the first two chapters so quickly because i wanted an opinion, and my beta has disapeared on me. I was going to finish the whole thing, then rewrite it like a bajillion times before i posted, but yeah. i need help! so i'm going to finish writing the whole thing, posting one chapter at a time. And then when i'm finished, i'll use the reviews people have sent me to rewrite the whole thing and repost it. **

**So please, reveiw!**


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